The boys have a few days off of school for fall break. We had considered driving to the beach but decided to stay home.  We chose to leave the Calendar clear rather than filling the days with activities and play dates. We are basking in the freedom of having no where to be and nothing to do.

Without the call of homework to finish before dinner or lunches to be packed in the evening, we find ourselves taking long walks along our quiet dirt road at dusk. The absence of our normal frantic pace has created space for fresh creativity and wild imaginations. My kitchen table is covered in pine cones, pretty leaves and dozens of paper swords (the boys decided to be Ninjas for Halloween and have a new paper sword business venture to compliment the Ninja theme. If you so desire, you can have your own colorful sword for $1. Quite the bargain compared to the apple tree pictures they tried to sell to Aunt Katie for $50.)

This short break is a reset. As I reflect on why we find ourselves continually over-extended and exhausted, I’m reminded of the importance of building white space into our days.

A deliberate choice to say no to over-scheduling allows freedom for exploring in the woods and building forts with imaginary tunnels through the trees. Unhurried mornings create space for lingering on the front porch under a warm blanket while clasping a hot mug with both hands. Unplugging from the hectic pace of our culture allows for friends to sit around our table sharing a meal while kids run outside, laughter spilling in alongside the cool breeze through open windows.

This break will end and normal life will resume.

The pressing needs and commitments won’t disappear. Yet, I can slow down and intentionally choose how we spend our days. I can filter requests for time on our calendar through the lens of our priorities. If our family calendar truly reflects our priorities, we will have plenty of white space built in. Time specifically set aside for connection.

Particularly in this dark season of negativity everywhere we turn; stepping outside together, getting dirt under our fingernails and finding walking sticks and playing crack the egg on the trampoline … these are the things that will tether us to one another. These intangibles draw me away from the screen and the mudslinging and the tension and call forth hope. Hope that feels naive and borderline ludicrous as I scroll through my social media feeds. Yet, it remains. Quietly simmering under the surface of the brokenness. Hope and mercy and compassion and love remain steadfast.

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My people are calling. We’re headed out for a hike in the woods. We will breathe in the fresh air and exhale under the bright, blue sky. We’ll walk slowly, searching for the perfect skipping rocks. We’ll run down hillside trails, laughing as the wind propels us forward. We’ll embrace the gift of this day and express our gratitude with belly laughs. There just isn’t time for unpacking the moral character of political candidates when you’re in the midst of a good ole’ hearty belly laugh. There, I said it: we need a heck of a lot more running around like Phoebe in Friends and laughing until our sides hurt right now. {I’m by no means advocating for unwise and uneducated voting, however, I will always advocate for less anger and spewed hatred across a screen and more offerings of grace}. Gather your people, go outside, and just be. Together.

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